


Of Tigers And Ties

by Mackem



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Bondage, Crossover, Gloves, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rope Bondage, Tie Kink, crossover sherlock holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in response to<br/><a href="http://st-xi-kink-meme.livejournal.com/5274.html?thread=4545690#t4545690">this prompt</a> on the <a href="http://st-xi-kink-meme.livejournal.com/">Star Trek XI Kink Meme</a> - basically, Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy in a Sherlock Holmes and John Watson-type scenario. With nudity and bondage.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Of Tigers And Ties

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to  
> [this prompt](http://st-xi-kink-meme.livejournal.com/5274.html?thread=4545690#t4545690) on the [Star Trek XI Kink Meme](http://st-xi-kink-meme.livejournal.com/) \- basically, Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy in a Sherlock Holmes and John Watson-type scenario. With nudity and bondage.

He has been home less than ten minutes. Time enough to re-stock his trusty leather bag with bandages – he'd been called out to dress a vicious dog bite on the leg of a sniffly, pained child – and to set a pot of sweet tea brewing, but not quite enough time to get settled in his comfortable armchair.

Ten minutes at home before the screaming began. It had to be some kind of record.

It was feminine, and sounded more appalled than pained, so Bones left his bag behind as he headed into the hallway with a tired sigh. There he found his landlady leaving Jim's rooms, the door slamming sharply behind her. She glared up at him, hands on her hips. " _Well I never_!"

"What seems to be the problem, ma'am?" McCoy asked politely, already wondering what Jim had done now.

"I tell you, doctor, I don't know why I allow him lodging in these rooms!" she snapped, her lips pursed in obvious disapproval.

"Are we discussing Jim?"

"Mr Kirk indeed! That…that _deviant_ ," she added darkly. "There's a special room set aside for him in Hell, I have no doubt!" McCoy worked hard to keep the smile from his face as she fingered the cross around her neck. Jim _was_ trying.

"What has he done now? Anything illegal?"

"I'm sure I don't know how legal it is," she sniffed immediately, "For all he drags the police in here so often. It's certainly _immoral_ ," she stressed, as if this were far worse. McCoy sighed through his nose.

"What precisely has he _done_ , ma'am?"

"I shan't sully my lips speaking of it," she snapped, and primly straightened her pinafore. "But he needs help, Dr McCoy, in more ways than one, and I shan't be the one giving it to him," she said firmly, turned on her heel, and descended downstairs with the upright stride of the righteous.

"Well, then," McCoy muttered to himself, squaring his shoulders. "What is it today, Jim?"

The amount of time he laughed was probably unprofessional, but he figured Jim, of all people, could hardly complain about _that_. Certainly there were other things McCoy was sure were higher on his list of complaints.

"Whoever did this," he said to the room at large, "Has an artist's eye." Jim grunted in a manner McCoy took to be extremely unimpressed, but McCoy continued threading his way through the room regardless, eyes fixed on the sight before him.

Jim had been attached securely to his four-poster, not laid upon it but tied to the posts at the foot, standing upright. He had been arranged uncomfortably, his legs spread wide and arms held up above his head, each limb fixed in place with rope – expensive rope, McCoy realised, noticing the details as Jim had always encouraged. Red, and soft, but no doubt strong, as Jim seemed entirely unable to escape.

Apparently whoever had done this to him seemed to be harbouring some personal grudge, as he had not only been left naked, but his clothes had been neatly laid out on the bed before him, just out of reach. Alongside them lay a knife with a serrated edge, of the kind ideally suited to cut rope.

McCoy could not help but notice the way Jim's bare skin gleamed golden in the lamplight, and how the red rope complimented him wonderfully.

His final thought _had_ to be voiced. "You won't appreciate this, Jim, but you rather suit a gag," he offered cheerfully, chuckling when Jim turned his head to glower over one tense shoulder at him. "Yes, well, I did say you wouldn't appreciate it." Stepping as kindly as possible over the slumped form of their – he checked automatically – merely sleeping dog, he stood behind his friend.  
Gloved fingers trailed down Jim's spine, halting in the dimple above his backside, before McCoy frowned at the material knotted around the back of his head. "Is that _my_ tie?" He tugged it from his mouth, rolling his eyes as Jim smacked his lips pointedly.

"Yes, well, it doesn't suit you at _all_ , Bones. I quite fail to comprehend why you purchased it. You don’t suit red in the slightest. Could you untie me, old boy?"

"Why are you wearing _my_ tie?" McCoy demanded, prodding Jim in the left buttock. His breath caught almost imperceptibly.

"I had none of my own clean – that wretched landlady seems to have issued an embargo on all my laundry," Jim grumbled, working his jaw. "While yours, I notice, is left outside your door regularly."

"Because I don't leave my clothing strewn around my room, the contents of which I have _not_ declared 'out of bounds and perfectly organised and _not_ to be disrupted'," McCoy said pointedly.

"Bully for you," Jim sniffed. "Now, Bones, about this offer of assistance you persist in not-making –"

"You don't commonly wear ties," McCoy said thoughtfully. "What was the occasion?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"Gaila visited. Bones, if you will, I cannot feel my –"

" _Gaila_! And all becomes clear," McCoy laughed, and patted Jim on the backside. Jim would later maintain that he most certainly did _not_ squeak at this. "Unplanned, I suppose?"

"I had no idea she was even in the country, let alone in town," Jim sniffed haughtily. "Last I heard, she was pilfering rubies from a Maharaja who really should know better than to trust a pretty young girl with the smile of a tiger."

"Perhaps _he_ will learn from his mistake," Bones said smugly, laughing as Jim stiffened and shook his head.

"I was on guard, Bones, you think I would treat a visit from her lightly?"

"Indeed not, if it necessitated a tie," McCoy replied smartly, and pressed his long form up against Jim. Jim froze as he slid a hand around to rest on the other man's lean stomach, tracing his abdominal muscles with leather-clad fingers. "You've never worn a tie for me."

"You've never worn a _corset_ for _me_ ," Jim muttered in return, and leaned his head against McCoy's shoulder as he laughed in his ear.

"That I cannot deny. Well then, my good genius, tell me. How did she get you this time? Surely you didn't volunteer to play the fly in her web?"

"What do you take me for, Bones? Don't feel obliged to answer that," Jim added quickly. He sighed, in a long-suffering fashion. "My narrative skills would be improved with use of my limbs, to add gestures as and when needed."  
  
"All in good time. Your mouth is a talented tool on its own," McCoy said smoothly, and grinned as Jim shot him a brief, amused smile.  
  
" _Fine_. The lady was shown into my rooms clutching a basket of exotic fruits and champagne on ice. I left the room to dress," Jim explained. "The champagne I opened myself, so I have _deduced_ the soporific effect to which I succumbed did not originate from there."  
  
"The fruit?" McCoy hazarded, and Jim shook his head. The golden hair tickled his chin with the gesture, and McCoy raised a hand to hold his chin, keeping him in place. Jim produced a tiny whimper.  
  
"Really, Bones!" He sighed when he was held firm. "The glasses. They were in the bucket alongside the champagne, frosted with what I took to be ice. I gather that while her glass was indeed merely chilled, mine had been doused with some anaesthetic, which froze onto the glass and was self-administered even as I demanded she drink first."  
  
"An ingenious woman. I must admit, I admire her handiwork," McCoy smiled, stroking a hand up Jim's arm and tugging on the rope. Jim growled. "Although I'm not sure I'd care to meet her. Surely this was not the purpose of her visit?"  
  
"I believe this was both a cheap thrill, and punishment, to an extent," Jim muttered balefully. "She asked me to run away with her. I'll show you the sights, she claimed. We'll make our fortune, many times over. We'll experience thrills and danger and wonders together. My dear, I replied, one can see such things by spending a night with a whore from the slum end of town."  
  
"I'm sure she took that comparison well," McCoy snorted. "And?"  
  
"And she smiled, and we fed each other fruit and drank champagne until I felt myself falling backward, unable to keep my eyelids open," Jim sighed. "I woke in the state you see me now, in _dire_ need of assistance. Unfortunately, none has been forthcoming. Merely the screams and curses of a landlady with rather too much religious fervour and not enough sense, and the predatory, mocking behaviour of the man I had _assumed_ to be my closest friend!"  
  
"You whine so," chuckled McCoy. "How can I be a predator when you were presented to me this way? I merely have good sense."  
  
"I shall contact Gaila and inform her I have changed my mind!" Jim snapped, and squirmed in surprise when two gloved fingers slid teasingly down the cleft of his backside.  
  
"She doesn't strike me as a woman inclined to offer second chances," Bones murmured, a smile very firmly upon his face. "Why should I release you, Jim? When left to run around on your own you invariably encounter trouble. Whereas in your present state, we can be sure that you are safe, protected and, blessedly," he grinned, fingering the tie lying around his neck, "Silent, when need be."  
  
"All good points," Jim murmured, and arched back onto McCoy's fingers. "However, I must remind you that when freed, I am infinitely more capable of arranging myself into a number of pleasing positions for you, Bones."  
  
"Touché." Bones leaned past Jim and took up the knife, an idea striking him. He used it to saw methodically at the ropes of his arms, ensuring he left a good deal of rope dangling from each wrist as he worked. When both arms were free he gently guided them to his sides, rubbing Jim's flesh soothingly. "Better, my boy?"  
  
"Much," Jim breathed happily, but turned his head in surprise when Bones tugged his arms back and quickly tied the remaining rope into a tight knot. He tugged experimentally at his bound hands, and huffed when he was pushed forward, his body bent over the bed at the waist and his legs still spread wide. "Bones?" he grumbled, his voice hitching a little in unmistakeable excitement despite his irritable attitude.  
  
Bones tugged Jim's hips up in an easy movement, and took great relish in palming the cheeks of his behind. "I admit it, Jim. _This_ may count as predatory behaviour."


End file.
